louis partridge - imagines and preferences

she's my muse.

i opened the intimidating doors to the huge museum, excited to finally be able to be there. i had been working my butt off at the god-forsaken cafe in my small hometown, just so i could take a trip the whole way to new york and be in this very museum i'm standing in. i've been wanting to be here for years, but never had the chance to go. i'm not sure how to act now that i'm here. i've been dreaming about this very moment for lord knows how long. i realized i was just standing at the entrance like a complete idiot, so i moved over to an employee to buy a ticket.

after the transaction was finished, i made my way towards a group of paintings. they were beautiful. they were all different, yet similar in their own way. one of them had a blood orange, canary yellow, and a shade of burgundy splattered and smeared across it, while another was simply black and white lines. though the black and white was modern and simple, the colorful one drew my attention even more. who knew that three colors smeared a certain way on a canvas could be so intriguing? as i moved on to see the other paintings and sculptures, i came across the most beautiful sight. it was a painting of a cottage sitting in a meadow, surrounded by wildlife. the mix of light pastels and brooding hues of every color was pleasing not only to the eye but pleasing to my head. it felt like everything was okay as i lost myself in the beauty of the picture. it was as if my eyes were saying, 'ah, finally.'

feeling something on my shoulder, i brushed it off not wanting to look away from the picture, as if it would grow legs and run away, never to be seen again. this time the strange feeling appeared along with a voice, "um, excuse me, miss?" i turned around with furrowed brows, wondering who was interrupting my admiration for the picture i had been staring at for so long. almost running into a chest, i looked up, seeing the most handsome boy i've ever seen. his eyes were dark and magnificent, and his voice was soft, yet deep. he held a notepad under his arm, and had a pencil behind his ear, almost hidden under his seemingly-soft hair. "oh, h-hello. oh no, am i in your way? i am so sorry-" i started rambling, hoping he wasn't tapping my shoulder so i would move out of the way. "no, you're not in my way at all. i was actually wondering if- um. well you see... i, um..." i stood there, nodding my head for him to go on. he mumbled to himself, "god, louis, you really know how to make a scene, don't you?" i chuckled at him, staying patient. "i was actually wondering if it was okay for me to draw you? i saw you looking at the painting and thought you were quite pretty, actually." he stated with flushed cheeks.

"me? i mean- uh, yes. yeah, i'm okay with that. so, do i just keep looking at the painting then?" i question, pointing a finger back at the painting behind me.

"yes, that would be perfect." he goes to stand by the side with his drawing pad, but turns back around. "um, are you completely sure you're comfortable with this? i don't wanna make you feel obligated to do anything-" he rushes.

"louis, right?" i ask. he nods his head vigorously with a nervous expression, his cheeks still red. "i'm y/n. and yes, i am a-okay with you drawing me. i promise." i offer him a gentle, yet reassuring smile.

"o-okay. i'm just, uh, gonna like- yeah." he stutters, walking back to the side to draw me.

i chuckled, and turned back to the painting, admiring it all over again. it seemed that every time i blinked, i found a new perspective to look at it from. staring at the picture made me want to live in the late 1700s, where there were fancy dresses and more land with wildlife flowing from it. it all reminded me of 'little house on the prairie'. feeling a presence beside me, i look over to see louis admiring the painting with me.

"isn't it gorgeous?" i ask him, looking at the painting yet again.

"that it is. it makes me want to find a big hill to roll down." he jokes. he then looks down at me, right in my eyes, and his cheeks turn red yet again. grabbing my hand with it facing upwards, he puts a folded paper in my palm, and closes my fingers around it. "um, here's the drawing. i thought you might want to keep it as a memory of today." he informed me, a small smirk resting on his face.